Romilda Vain
by scholarlydimwit
Summary: Ehmagod...I'm, like...Romilda VANE! This is, like, my posse: Violet, Rose, Tulip, and -you guessed it- Geranium. Join Romilda and her geeky, gothic, lezzy, and hippy friends as they force you to listen to their adventures at Hogwarts! R:TEEN
1. Hellooo There!

CHAPTER 1

Romilda: Helloooo there dear! _I'm_ Romilda Vane. But of course, you already know that. _Everyone_ knows about _me_. And they have _good_ reason to. I'm the _hottest_ girl in Hogwarts, of course. I have _like_ the _prettiest_ shade of hair. It's like _dark_ maple syrup. Totally _sexy_, right? My eyes are like, _sky_ blue and I have a _curvaceous_, but _prominent_ chin. I like, totally don't even know what that _means_. And I have a great body. So like, _Every guy_ that sets eyes on me _wants_ me. In fact, there's the _funniest_ story about these two fellows I met at Hogsmeade last week…

**Two hours later…**

…And _then_ I was like "Ooooh boys…don't fret. _I_ know how to solve this! I can snog _both_ of you! One at a time!" They were mad at me for some reason or the other, and _then_ I drank some firewhisky at the pub with them. Like, then I _don't_ remember what happened after that. Except I woke up on a broomstick, with like…._no_ pants, and then -

_(A gaggle of girls come up behind Romilda)_

Romilda: _Hey_, girls! _Oh_, I should probably introduce you, shouldn't I?? Okay, these are like, my _best_ friends. This is Violet.

Violet: Quiet! I'm studying for my N.E.W.T. exam.

You: Um…isn't that three years from now?

Violet: It is always best to be prepared at the earlies-

Romilda: _Yeah, _we like _get_ it. _Anyway,_ this is like, Rose.

_(Rose glares at you)_

You: Rose…erm…nice to meet you. I think.

Rose: DAMMIT, shut the hell up before I shove this dog collar down your throat!!

Romilda: _Oh,_ don't let _Rose_ bother you. She does that to _everyone_. It's _actually_ kind of, like _annoying_. _Moving on_….This is _like_, Tulip.

Tulip: Hi! I'm Tulip, and Rose is my lover - COUGH erm COUGH I mean….my best friend.

_(Rose flips her off)_

Rose: Stupid lesbian…

You (to Tulip): Are you suuuure that you're straight?

Tulip: WHAT?! Of course I'm straight!! How could you even suggest some-

Romilda: Yeah, hun. She's lezzy. Let's see…you've met Violet, Rose, Tulip…ah, ok t_his_ is -

You: Umm...let me guess. Geranium?

Romilda: OMG, _how_ did you _know?!_

Geranium: Man, I'm getting psychic karma from you, dude.

You: Uhhh…look, it was nice to meet you, but I gotta go.

Romilda: Oh, _darling_! You can't leave now!! _Where _are you _going??_

You: I have to…I have to…

Violet: Study?

Rose: Cut yourself?

Tulip: Shag Rose? I mean – ER – not that I'd do that.

Geranium: Meditate?

You: Yeah…I have to, uh, study the art of cutting myself, while meditating. See you guys tomorrow!!

(you run away)

Tulip: What about Rooooooooose??

**Soooo….what will happen?**

**Kudos to RadicalReason for the life of the story! She's amazing! She helped me think of the "Romilda Vain" thing, and helped me find my characters' inner personality! THANK YOU! ILY 3**

**If you have not already read R's amazing story, DO IT!! NOW!! It's called "Eloise Midgen and the Yule Ball"**

**Thanks you, also, to sporkalicious285 (not a fanfiction account) for helping me with Tulip, the lezzy **

**THE END…?**


	2. Ambushed!

Saturday

**Saturday**

_(Stumbling out of bed, you walk sleepily into the common room. To your horror, you find Romilda and her posse sitting around in the armchairs, like the prissy girls they are.)_

You: Wait…_what?_ WHAT did you say?!

_(Oh, nothing. Ignore me, dear. I'm just the little voice that narrates your life.)_

You: Right then.

_(You sneak behind the shelf. With any luck, Romilda won't see you. Almost there…you reach for the doorknob…turn it slowly and open the door a crack…freedom is just around the cor-)_

Romilda: _Oh_ DAH-LING, I've _just_ been _dying_ for you to like_,_ wake up! Come _over_ here and JOINus!

You: Ohhhh crap.

Violet: Excuse me…I would actually quite rather prefer it if you would discontinue to use such scandalous forms of profanity, and –

Romilda: Don't care. _Anyway,_ the _gals_ and I were _just_ talking about our _first_ day at _Hogwarts_! Don't you think that's _exciting_?

You: Not particu-

Rose: Shut up and listen, you worthless hobo. It's a good story.

You: Umm…

Tulip: Yeah! Listen to Rose! She's really smart! And nice! And pretty! And…um, never mind blushes.

Geranium: You know, Tulip, there's really like, nothing to be embarrassed about, man. It's totally cool with us if you're just, like…different. You know?

Rose: I'm going to rip open your throats if you all don't be quiet.

Tulip: Yeah, she's serious. She did that to me one time. When I asked her out.

Romilda: _Finally_, I can _like _tell my _story_! Okay, so…


	3. Seal Butts

"Unngh! Oof!" Daddy panted as he heaved the last of my suitcases into the trunk of our muggle-bought car. "Romilda, dear…was it _really_ necessary to bring eleven suitcases with you?"

I huffed and pouted.

"Daddy, we've _spoken_ about this at _length_. I _need all_ of my suitcases with me. One has my _shoes_, another has my _makeup_, and –"

"Yes, I get it, darling."

I stepped into the car delicately, so as not to break my new heels. I was bubbling with excitement. My first year at Hogwarts!! I can't _wait_! No more messy nails, I could use magic! And if my dress tore or something, I could magically repair it, and –

_Romilda, _I told myself,_ Stop hyperventilating, dear. That messes up your hair, remember? You should remember only TOO well. Remember that time when you got those new _super-expensive_ dress robes that you've wanted forever? Yeah, when you tried them on, they looked disgusting with your frizzy hair, which you acquired from breathing too fast when you got the dress robes!! And – _

"Romilda, put on your seatbelt!" my dad's hoarse voice cut into my thoughts.

"_What's_ a seal-butt?" I asked curiously. My father was an expert on Muggles. In fact, he majored in Muggle Studies, and he's been fascinated with them ever since.

"That's a _seatbelt_. It's on your left. Wrap it around you and fit it into the buckle on your left. All Muggles are required, by the law, to wear them in cars."

"Okay…" I replied, "But I _still_ don't see what a _seal's backside_ has to do with _any_ of this. I mean, _honestly_."

A few minutes later, I was entangled in the seal-butt so tightly that I couldn't move a muscle. Silly little Muggle inventions.

"DADDDYY!!" I screamed, "THIS IS WRINKLING MY DRESS!!"

"Not now honey! Daddy's driving. I can't pull over now. You'll just have to wait until we reach King's Cross."

So I sat there uncomfortably for two hours, choked by the stupid seal-butt. I glared at the back of Daddy's head. If dirty looks were practical objects – let me tell you – he would need a shower. Bored out of my mind, I used my free hand to unzip my purse. I rummaged through the nail polish compartment until I found the right shade for my nails. Finally, I narrowed it down to two colors: sparkly emerald green and rich, velvet red. However, I couldn't get much progress after that. I sat there for what seemed like forever, trying to decide which nail color I should use. I was about to smash the bottles in frustration, when I got a totally cool idea. First, I coated my nails in three layers of green. Then I laid the red polish over it. I held my hand away to admire my handiwork.

I gasped.

_HOLY FREAKIN' SEAL-BUTTS!!_

**Yeah...I know. Short chapter. I decided that I'm going to have short chapters in the beginning and then combine some of them when my attention span matures and I can focus on writing a story that is longer than a few pages. RadicalReason is so good at that. She can write 16 freakin' chapters without falling asleep. -bows down to RadicalReason-**

**Anyway...I have a lot of credits that are long overdue. Thankees to RadicalReason for maaaany different things: coming up with the title of the story is only one of them. I can't remember the rest. I'll get back to you on that. **

**Oh, and she also pestered me for two weeks to write this chapter. It's LIFE is owed to RadicalReason. I 3 her. Not as in, like, Tulip+Rose love...**

**Hm...what else? Oh yeah! I want MORE reviews!!** **I'm so upset right now. Almost to the point where I'm crying. Many people have refused to give me their opinion about the story, and others say bad things...**

**Like what? Like...**

**Stewart Martha: You have a twisted mind!**

**J.O. Simpson: Oh wow...the _inner_ workings of your mind. **

**Spitney Brears: This is...different. Very...unique**

**(P.S. - no, those are _obviously_ not their real names. don't yell at me now)**

**So, please ppl. Tell me what you really think. If you think I have a twisted mind, I DON'T GIVE A SEAL'S ! I want to know what you think about the STORY, ok? That's what REVIEWS are FOR!**

**Ok, my pent-up rage is over. **

**REVIEW! NOW!**

**-scholarlydimwit**


	4. Wet Nails

I gasped. My nails were the color of horse dung. The edges were clotted and blotchy. I desperately tried to peel them off, but they wouldn't budge.

"Bloody Quick-Dry polish…" I muttered, trying to bite the nasty hue off of my perfectly manicured nails.

"Romilda, we're here!"

I panicked. How the hell was I supposed to go out with nails like these?! Maybe mixing paints wasn't such a bright idea. Nevertheless, I stepped out as elegantly as I could manage, in case some cute boys were watching.

"Help me with these boxes, dear."

"What?! And break my heels??" I gestured to my new super-thin heels, "The shoe box specifically indicated that these can't take more than 100 pounds."

"And since when were you less than 100?"

"Since I started throwing up after dinner."

"WHAT?!"

"Nothing.

"Can you at least take your purse?"

"Uhh…" I thought quickly, "Can't. Nails are drying."

Daddy grimaced and hauled all the boxes by himself. I leaned against the car, pretending to be drying my nails. Suddenly, my friend Jenalla walked up to me. I often met her at the Whimsical Witch beauty salon. Jen was in her fifth year at Hogwarts.

"Who's _that?_" Jen made a face at my father.

I looked Daddy over. He was wearing a bright neon shirt proclaiming "Cars are my life" and too-short khaki trousers. His large straw hat obscured his face.

"My chauffeur," I said indifferently.

"Nice."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Jen and I boarded the train together.

"So, uh…wanna sit together?" I asked casually, trying not to sound too desperate. According what I heard, Jen was pretty popular. I was hoping some of that popularity would rub off on me.

"Sorry, kid," Jen chuckled, "I'm in the prefect compartment."

And with that, she strode away, long blonde hair swishing behind her.

Grumbling, I settled into an empty compartment.

I was re-applying my make-up, and _that's_ when I saw her.


	5. Compartment of Flowers

I was re-applying my make-up, and that's when I saw her

I was re-applying my make-up, and _that's_ when I saw her.

She was wearing a tight black Dew Scented shirt over ripped fishnets and four bulging belly rings. Her pale skin was subject to massive gothic make-up abusive, and her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail which ended in recklessly gelled spikes. Her gray skinny jeans and faded black Vans were almost obscure by a black dragon-hide skirt covered in silver spikes.

I consciously adjusted my Dior dress and put my Chanel sunglasses in my Gucci purse.

The goth glared at my designer outfit and arranged herself as far from me as possible.

Clearing my throat uncomfortably, I wondered what I should say.

"Hello, I'm Romilda Vane!"

No answer.

"What's your name?"

Glare. "Rose."

I recoiled, but continued, "What like, house do you like, want to be sorted into?"

"Slytherin."

"Uh…"

"Got a problem, Gucci-girl?" she turned to me menacingly.

"No, nope, no problem," I turned away from her.

_Every Rose has its thorns,_ I thought, staring absentmindedly at the spikes on her skirt.

Just then, another girl walked in. I scrutinized her– wrinkled jeans, an orange tee-shirt, and untied sneakers. My horror at her uncoordinated outfit was conquered by my curiosity to see her face. She struggled to hold a bulking mass of a book called "Applied non-Euclidean Geometry" up to her nose. The top of frizzy orange hair was visible over the book's binding.

"Hey, I'm R – "

"SHHHHHH!!" she hissed, slamming her book down to reveal permanently furrowed eyebrows, thick glasses, and a ginger mane that would put a lion to shame.

"Uh…ok. Cool book."

"I know," she sniffed, pushing her glasses up, "I wrote it."

"Wow," I squinted to see the author's name, "That's like, totally impressive, Violet."

"I would appreciate it if the decibels emitted from your larynx could be deducted to a minimum, Romilda. I must put my large intellectual capacity to use." I noticed that her voice had a slight nasal twang to it.

"How do you know m-"

"I've been taking an advanced course in Parapsychology. I _know_ things. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to discover why Pythagoras found fault in his own theorem."

Realizing that none of my companions wanted to make reasonable conversation, I turned to the window angrily. _Prefect_ compartment. Yeah right. That was just an excuse to sit with her popular friends. Before I could help it, a big sloppy tear plopped onto my Dior dress. Jen was probably laughing and having fun with her friends, while I was in a compartment with flowers.

_What's next? Dandelions?_

Before the thought had entered my head, another one walked in.

**A/N: If you're reading this, you also NEED to read my other story: And You Thought You Knew. It's a lot funnier than Romilda.**

**Rose is a goth,**

**Violet's a nerd.**

**You need to review!**

**Don't be a turd.**


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